


Not a Date

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: First Date, M/M, mostly banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 06:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: “I wouldn’t call this a first date.” Came the terse reply. There was a pause, wherein Edward simply shrugged at the perceived rejection, hiding the sting. Then Jon continued, hesitantly. “I wouldn’t take you to some dingy bar for a first date.”





	Not a Date

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short thing I did on request. I'll post something longer later on.

“You owe me.”

“I know.”

“Do you even need me here?”

“I’d look suspicious sitting here by myself.”

“You look suspicious anyway, strawman.” Edward sighed as he considered the remainder of his wasted night. Sit with Jonathan Crane in a bar neither of them wanted to be in until the man Jon was tailing decided to call it a night. Apparently the target was trying to replicate Jonathan’s toxin. Originally, Jon was just going to kill him, but then it became clear he was working for someone. Someone that, Jon suspected, he was meeting in this bar almost nightly. Jonathan was infamous, and conspicuous on his own. He needed a buffer to cover up how horribly he stuck out. Edward was charismatic, and likely the only person who would agree to help.

Edward had conditions. Jonathan had to pay for all his drinks, and he would owe Edward a favor. One that Edward could cash in at any time. It was… not as much as Jonathan had suspected he’d have to give, which made him suspicious. But he wasn’t in a position to be paranoid.

“At least you dressed like an actual person tonight.” Edward muttered into his third martini. “You don’t look half bad.”

“Did you expect me to show up in burlap?” Jonathan raised an eyebrow, and Edward met his gaze with a smile.

“Absolutely. And the little hat.” He teased, and if Jon didn’t know better he would almost say Edward was… flirting. “But you clean up nicely. You should do it more often.” That made Crane shift uncomfortably, glancing away.

“I am not usually presented with situations that warrant it.”

“I could fix that.” Okay yeah, he was absolutely flirting. The man was practically fluttering his eyelashes. Absolutely nothing about Edward Nygma was subtle. In the dim lighting of the bar, Ed could see a light blush on Jonathan’s pale face, but Jonathan couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being… teased. Mocked. He was almost bristling at Edward’s flirtations.

“Could you now.” His tone was always flat, always cold. Still, Edward could feel the tension in his tone and tilted his head curiously.

“I could. If you were interested in that sort of thing. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to call this a first date.” Edward pointed out, finishing his drink. He’d need it, if he was going to deal with Jon’s paranoia.

“I wouldn’t call this a first date.” Came the terse reply. There was a pause, wherein Edward simply shrugged at the perceived rejection, hiding the sting. Then Jon continued, hesitantly. “I wouldn’t take you to some dingy bar for a first date.”

Edward perked up again, the grin returning.

“Well, I certainly hope not. I’m a man of refined tastes, you know.” There was a moment that anyone who knew Edward became familiar with. It was a moment where his eyes would shine and his posture would straighten. It was a moment he thought up a game he wanted to play. “Then tell me, Jonathan. Where would you take me?”

It was clear that Crane was trying to decipher his intentions. His gaze was absolutely filled with distrust, but also curiosity.

“... Somewhere with more… privacy. Less noise. I’m… not exactly sure where people go on dates.”

“Generally they do things like see movies, have dinner, go drinking…”

“I don’t believe either of us have an interest in movies. I don’t like people watching me eat, and I try not to drink.”

“Just as well. I’d be disappointed if you chose any of those, really. Too… mundane.” Edward was watching Jonathan closely, measuring the level of discomfort in his companion. “What do you do for fun?”

“I read.”

“Of course you do. Anything not completely solitary?” It was a rhetorical question, but it was answered regardless.

“...No.” Jon had had to shape most of his life around the assumption that he’d be alone. They both knew that.

“Would a museum interest you?” Edward tried.

“Depends on the exhibits. Why are you… putting so much effort into a hypothetical?” Jon would not plead, but he wasn’t used to be so absolutely lost. He didn’t like it. Edward just smiled, poisonously sweet.

“I’d very much like to make it a reality.” Edward leaned forward a little, watching his flustered companion carefully. Desperate for a distraction, Jonathan looked around quickly for his target. There he was, at the bar, talking to a man in a suit. He would just need to follow them as they left. Edward followed his gaze, a bit miffed that he was no longer the center of Jonathan’s attention. “Or maybe you’d just prefer to kill people together.” He drawled lazily, sitting back in his chair.

“Hm? What?” Jon snapped his attention back to Edward, who was looking away. He waved dismissively, and then crossed his arms to pout. “Oh nothing, Jonathan. Just marvelling at what a romantic you are.”

“Why on earth would I want to be romantic with you, Edward?” Jon just sounded exasperated, and it grated on Edwards nerves.

“Because I’m incredible! I’m intelligent, I’m rich, I’m attractive-”

“Not to mention humble.”

“Humility is the last resort of someone with nothing else to offer.” Edward shot back disdainfully. “As I’m sure you’ll agree, Mr. God-Of-Fear. Honestly, why wouldn’t you want to woo me? I’m a catch!” He spread his arms in emphasis, then promptly crossed them again. Just to be petty. Jonathan, however, did not look impressed.

“You’re loud. You’re annoying. You never shut up, and for all your intellect, you never think beyond yourself. You have a compulsive need to intentionally leave evidence of your crimes, resulting in the arrests of you and anyone associated with you-”

“They are clues!”

“My point remains.” Jonathan was unmoved, and he was the one to lean forward this time. “Edward, if this is something you want to do then ask me. Properly.”

“That’s the one thing I don’t ask people.” Edward insisted. “They ask me.”

“Because you’re a ‘catch.’” Well, it sounded so ridiculous when you said it like that.

“Because I’m a catch.” Edward confirmed all the same. There was a long silence wherein they simply stared at each other. Edward wished he’d ordered another drink. Even in the darkness of the bar, Jonathan’s eyes were piercing, and he knew what was going to happen before the words even came out of his mouth. “... Maybe we could… just go for a walk sometime. After dark, when the weather’s nice. Isolated, quiet. We could talk. And when some poor fool inevitably tries to mug us, we can have some real fun.” Edward gave his pitch, and watched as the other man considered it, eyes never leaving Edwards.

“Your leg-” He started, but Edward cut him off.

“-Needs to be exercised daily. Lest it become stiff, and using it at all becomes significantly more challenging. Besides, that’s what the cane’s for.”

“That’s not all it’s for.”

“Well, that goes without saying.” Emboldened by Jon’s undivided attention, Edward leaned forward again, elbow on the table and head leaning on his hand. “So tell me, Dr. Crane: Does that appeal?” Jonathan raised an eyebrow at the use of his title, and refused to lean back even as Edward leaned forward.

“Perhaps it does. When do you propose we do this?”

“I’d say about now.” Edward subtly jerked his head towards the door of the bar, where Jonathan’s two targets were showing themselves out. “A nice walk on a nice night, with some good old fashioned Gotham street violence to liven up the evening.” They stood at almost the same time, Edward grabbing his cane from its place leaning against his chair. “Shall we?”

Jonathan said nothing. He looked Edward over appraisingly, then headed towards the door. Edward followed, a bit uncertain, and found Jonathan’s answer in a door held open politely.

“After you, Mr. Nygma.”

“My, my. What a proper Southern gentleman.” Jonathan simply scoffed at the fake southern accent.

“Your attempt at the accent is atrocious.” But there was no venom in his voice. He and Edward headed leisurely into the night, shadowing the men they would later kill. A good evening, all in all. As long as they got home before a Bat could ruin it.


End file.
